


a great, dark, soft thing

by marginaliana



Category: Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: BBC era, Blow Jobs, Exhibitionism, First Time, M/M, Voyeurism, but I figured I'd better make a note of that, some slight unknowing exhibitionism/voyeurism but quickly moving into consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 06:56:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10078532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marginaliana/pseuds/marginaliana
Summary: They were sharing a room, again. It was a bit awkward tonight, because James was asleep and Jeremy was… There really wasn't a sufficiently polite euphemism for wanking, he reflected.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Beat-ed by the fabulous ShhNoOneKnows.

They were sharing a room, again, because the BBC's generosity extended just so far and no further. Jeremy didn't really mind it – better to share with James who was at least aware of the concept of being awake at 3 am against one's will than with Richard (who either stayed up all night deliberately or slept like the dead). But it was a bit awkward tonight, because James was asleep and Jeremy was…

There really wasn't a sufficiently polite euphemism for wanking, Jeremy reflected. Which was in and of itself, yes, probably an acknowledgment that this was what he was doing. 

It was rude, of course, but that had never stopped Jeremy from doing anything ever. And anyway it was a rare enough thing these days for him to be up for it, if he was honest. Surely that merited special consideration. He hadn't had a date in ages – most women actually being in their right minds, it turned out – and porn didn't satisfy the way it once had. Perhaps because he'd seen literally all of it.

But tonight he was in the mood, and he was here, and he was bloody well going to take advantage of it. James' faint snoring ought to have been putting him off entirely, but it seemed to be doing the opposite. Jeremy thought it was probably just that it was familiar. Comfortable.

It was important to be comfortable when wanking. He had the pillows positioned just so under his head, the sheet tented over his hand and his boxers shoved just far down enough that he could get his cock in hand. 

He kept it slow, achingly slow, the movement of his hand down and then up. Twisting his thumb over the head and then his fingertips down the vein on the underside, a hint of blunt fingernail that made him bite down hard on his bottom lip to stifle a gasp. A tight grip then, sliding down a millimeter at a time, trying to minimize the slick sound of it. Fuck, it was good, intense. He thought idly that he ought to be imagining something, someone – picturing a gorgeous woman in his head, what she'd say, how she'd look at him – but he couldn't quite conjure anything up. So there was only this, the heat of his own palm, the rough pads of his fingers. 

"Jezza?"

Jeremy's heart possibly stopped. His hand _definitely_ stopped, and he found himself adding the moment to his mental list of 'Most Embarrassing Things That Have Ever Happened To Me.' He didn't say anything, though, evened out his breathing, hoping that if he stayed quiet James would just think he was dreaming, would roll over and go back to sleep. 

"Are you—"

No. Of course he wasn't that lucky. He had to clear his throat before he could respond. "Yeah. Sorry."

There was a beat of silence. Then James' voice, a sleepy murmur. "Don't let me stop you."

'Fuck,' Jeremy mouthed, eyes wide as he stared up at the dark ceiling. What on earth was he supposed to say to that? Or do? It would be weird to carry on wanking while James was awake, even half-awake. Wouldn't it?

His cock, apparently, did not agree – it was harder than ever, throbbing against his palm and dripping precome over his fingers.

_Oh, what the hell,_ Jeremy thought.

He started moving his hand again, perhaps a little faster now. Not too fast, because even with the ridiculousness of the situation he didn't want to get off too quickly, didn't want to waste it. He could feel heat rising in his face, his chest – half embarrassment and half the electric pleasure of the touch. And now that he didn't have to be so silent he could let himself thrust up a little into the curled hollow of his fist, could let breath catch in the back of his throat when his thumb edged up underneath his foreskin just so. 

And maybe it was a bit more exciting like this, knowing that someone else might be witnessing it. He'd never really thought of himself as an exhibitionist before – how could he, with a too-tall, too-knobbly body like his? – but in the dark, with nothing but sound, it was easier to think that this might be a part of him worth witnessing. Even if James was, almost certainly, going back to sleep.

There was a soft rustling noise, somewhere in the darkness, as a sheet fell to the floor. Then James' feet padding softly across the hotel room carpet.

Jeremy had a sudden realization that very possibly he'd committed himself to something without knowing it. That James' sleep-softened voice had been testing the waters, and that Jeremy had said yes – or at least maybe – to whatever it was, just by carrying on.

The bed dipped as James sat down. "All right?" he said, barely louder than a whisper.

"I— Yeah." Jeremy didn't quite know why he'd said it, but once it was out there he didn't want to take it back.

James sighed out, a breathy noise that Jeremy couldn't quite interpret, and shoved the sheet aside. Jeremy didn't know what he was expecting – he'd never actually had a mate climb into bed with him before – but it certainly wasn't the way James was sliding down, far enough that his hair brushed against Jeremy's thigh. The implication was unmistakable. 

"You going to—"

"If you don't mind."

"By all means," Jeremy said, but his attempt at a breezy tone was ruined by the way his voice shook. James' fingers caught the edge of his boxers and pulled them further down. He curled a hand around Jeremy's cock – there was a moment when they were both touching it, hand brushing against hand, which absurdly felt more intimate than anything else. Then Jeremy lifted his hand and James's mouth was on him. 

It was careful at first, a soft press of lips to the head and then teasing down the underside. So different from the rough squeeze of his own hand, even on a night like tonight when he tried to draw things out. James kissed him, tasted him, teasing with the flicker of his tongue. Jeremy clenched one hand in the sheet, lifted the other and then hesitated.

"Go on, then," James murmured, hot breath eddying over skin. Jeremy slipped his fingers into James' hair, easing it back from his face. It was soft against the palm of his hand, as soft as any woman's hair. 

James groaned softly and took Jeremy in his mouth, a long slow slide of wet heat down and down. Jeremy closed his eyes as pleasure shivered through him, then opened them again; he couldn't see anything at all, really, but it felt like a betrayal of the circumstances not to have his eyes open. And there was plenty to take in even without sight – the tight suction of James' mouth, the flicker of his tongue, the slick sounds and his own harsh breaths, the faint tangy smell of sex. James' thumbs rubbed at his balls, massaging, drawing them up so that he could tease at the skin behind them. 

It was good – Christ, it was good. Jeremy heard himself moan, felt his hips roll upwards with a helpless, desperate desire to get more of himself into James' mouth. James grunted and pressed him back into the sheets with a strategically placed forearm, but he didn't stop.

And Jeremy didn't want him to stop. It was perhaps rather late in the process for this realization, but it hit him with all the force of a Ferrari at two hundred miles an hour nonetheless. The thought of coming in James' mouth was intensely erotic, and not just because any blowjob would have been. 

Because it was James. 

_Shit,_ Jeremy thought, but he had no time to dwell on it, not when James was sucking him tight and slick and hot, giving a little moan with each breath as if this was doing as much for him as it was for Jeremy. "Yeah," Jeremy murmured. "Fuck, that's good." He could feel James shudder at the words and it spurred him to more. "So good. Your _mouth_ , fuck. So hot."

It wasn't going to take long, not now. But it was so good that he couldn't bring himself to regret it. "Close—" he gasped. James' hair was gathering sweat underneath where Jeremy's fingers held it from the nape of his neck, and his own skin was prickling with it, too. "Close."

James groaned again and sank down, down, far enough that Jeremy's cock was pushed into the back of his throat. Jeremy's hips stuttered up despite James' restraining arm, thrusting once, twice, and he had to bite down on his lip hard to keep from shouting as he came in thick spurts.

James stayed on him as he shuddered through it and then slumped back into the sheets, breathing hard. When James finally did let Jeremy's cock slip from his lips it made a wet sound, obscene in the airless silence of the room. Jeremy could feel the moment when James' weight shifted, away rather than towards. 

_Be brave, for once in your fucking life,_ Jeremy told himself, and he lifted his free hand from the sheets, clenched his fingers into James' shoulder. 

James went still.

"Come here," Jeremy said. 

James shivered but obeyed, sliding up the bed until Jeremy could reel him in for a kiss. He'd tasted himself on a partner's kiss before but not like this, not with the scrape of stubble against his lips, not with the feeling of barely-controlled passion in the muscles beneath his palms. Not with James' cock hard against his thigh, hot even through the fabric of his boxers. It was clear enough that James hadn't expected the kiss, hadn't expected to get anything more than the opportunity to suck Jeremy off, in the dark, with barely more than a word between them. There was something heartbreaking about that realization. 

"Tell me," Jeremy said. He mouthed his way across James' cheek, kissing the hinge of his jaw and the spot beneath his ear. He still had James' hair gathered up in one hand and if he was careful he could just tease at the nape of James' neck with his fingertips. "Tell me how you like it."

"Jezza—" It was almost a gasp.

"Tell me."

" _Ah_ ," James said, and then, shaky, "To be honest I think your voice will just about do it at this point."

That was almost enough to make Jeremy get it up again. But he carefully filed the thought away for later and slid the hand on James' shoulder down over his chest instead, finding the elastic edge of his boxers and working his hand inside. James' cock was hard and hot and slick, and Jeremy hadn't done this to someone else before but he'd done it enough for himself that he knew what was good. He curled his hand into a loose fist and stroked downwards, easy at first and then tighter when James groaned and thrust up into the touch. 

"Jez—"

"You were so good," Jeremy said, and it was awkward as anything but James didn't seem to mind, given the way he shivered, given the way he made a soft, choked noise in the back of his throat. "So good. Your mouth, your hands. James, I—" He knew his face was flushed red, and it was only the darkness that made it possible for him to say it. "I wanted to see you," he said, and James came with a hoarse cry, pulsing hot and sticky all over Jeremy's hand and the inside of his boxers.

It wasn't as unpleasant as Jeremy had thought it might be – in fact, in wasn't unpleasant at all. He had no idea if he'd still think so in the morning, but it seemed likely. Once he'd made up his mind to do something, he didn't often change it.

James rested his forehead on Jeremy's shoulder, panting. Jeremy combed through the sweat-damp tangles of his hair and hung on.


End file.
